


Oceans

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Distance [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Magic, Realizations, moving in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: Derek waited upstairs, ready to keep Stiles from hurting Scott like he promised. He silently promised himself that if Scott laid a hand on Stiles he would probably kill him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One or two more, I think :) thanks for reading, I've enjoyed writing this series

It was a month before Stiles decided he wanted to talk to Scott, and only because he and Derek were due to move down to Berkeley in a week. “I meant what I said to you,” he told Derek quietly. “When Scott was…when I…I’m yours.” He struggled with the words, unable to meet Derek’s eyes the way he had that night in the midst of everything, but they were true. Derek could feel it in his heartbeat and the warmth of Stiles’ hand in his own. “I am, Derek, nothing’s going to change that.”

 

“I know.” Derek squeezed his hand gently and Stiles finally looked up at him. “I love you.” He’d never said it so easily in his whole life; he hadn’t believed it of another person in so many years.

 

Stiles sighed, and picked up the phone.

 

**

 

It was more of a screaming match than anything else.

 

Derek stayed upstairs as a compromise, because Scott wanted him to leave entirely and Stiles refused to let that happen. He could hear every word even when they were talking in normal voices, but then Scott seemed to forget that he was apologizing to Stiles and it all went downhill from there. Magic was sparking in Stiles, Derek felt it in his own body, but he was in control of himself so far. Derek had agreed that if he tried to hurt Scott, he would hold Stiles back. He thought silently to himself that if Scott tried to hurt Stiles, he would probably kill him on the spot.

 

They yelled at each other for a long time about everything from Scott sending Stiles away to how Scott basically lost all interest in Stiles when he met Allison. They fought about the nogitsune, about Peter, about Isaac, Jackson, but then Scott was saying something about how “fucking Derek is going to get you killed,” followed by the sound of crunching bone. Derek was racing downstairs in an instant and found Scott on the ground, blood all over his face, and Stiles standing above him.

 

“I am not _fucking_ Derek,” he snarled in Scott’s face. Electricity danced between his fingertips and Derek took a step forward, ready to grab him. “I’m _in love_ with him, do you hear me? I’m in love with Derek, and if you ever say anything against him ever again, I might actually kill you.”

 

The front door slammed open and the sheriff rushed in, gun out. “I heard shouting when I pulled up—” He stopped dead at the sight that greeted him. “Oh.”

 

“We’re done here.” Stiles moved away from Scott, swaying like he was suddenly exhausted. “Unless someone is in danger or hurt, I don’t want you to call. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to hear from you at all, unless it’s because something is really wrong.”

 

“Stiles…”

 

“I mean it, Scott.” Stiles was trembling, and Derek caught him as his knees gave out. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t…you need to leave. Right now.”

 

Scott was on his feet, nose no longer broken. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “We can fix this, Stiles, I can’t—I can’t lose you.”

  
Stiles shook his head. “Get out of here, Scott.”

 

The sheriff took Scott by the shoulder and guided him out of the house, leaving Derek to sink to the floor with Stiles. “You have to let go of me,” Stiles was murmuring into his neck. “I’m going to hurt you, I—it’s too much, Derek, I can’t hold onto it, you have to _let me go_.” Tiny bolts sparked along his skin, up his arms, and his eyes were black when he looked desperately at Derek, struggling to get away. “Don’t let me hurt you, don’t let me—oh god, _oh god_.”

 

“Derek,” the sheriff said softly.

 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Derek whispered soothingly into Stiles’ hair, cradling him to his chest. “Stiles look at me, it’s okay. I’m okay, you won’t hurt me, you _can’t_  hurt me.” He could see his reflection in the black that completely consumed Stiles’ eyes, but he twined their fingers and lifted their hands into view. “Look, Stiles.” Stiles’ gaze slipped from Derek’s face to their hands, to the electricity dancing along Stiles’ fingers…and onto Derek’s. He looked utterly terrified and fascinated at the same time, and when their eyes met again he surged forward like he couldn’t help himself. Derek closed his eyes and lost himself in that kiss, unaware of the sheriff smiling softly and turning to go upstairs, leaving them to kiss each other until neither of them could breathe.

 

**

 

They left for Berkeley the next morning.

 

Lydia didn’t look surprised when they showed up, moving truck filled with furniture waiting in the street. “How much extra did you have to pay the moving guy?” she asked Derek while Stiles was busy unpacking his and Derek’s clothes in their room (“I refuse to have unnecessary boxes lying around, Derek, I’m not some sort of heathen.”)

 

“Two hundred,” he admitted. “Stiles needed to get out of there.” It had taken Stiles a long time to reign in his magic, and when he finally did he just apologized over and over again, until Derek kissed him quiet. “Let’s get out of here,” he’d said to Stiles, and by the time night fell they were ready.

 

“You take better care of him than Scott ever did,” Lydia told him.

 

“I love him.”

 

And there it was: said to someone other than Stiles, out there in words for the whole world to see.

 

Lydia kissed his cheek. “I know.” She tilted her head. “One thing? When you’re having sex, keep in mind that there’s a certain level that it becomes audible to human beings. Go above that level, and Jordan and I will have no problem matching that.” It was a clear threat, one that Derek would rather not have carried out.

 

Still, he nearly forgot when Stiles had him on his back at three in the morning, fucking into him slow and deep until Derek had to bite down on the back of his own hand to keep from sobbing out loud. Stiles swallowed the sound he made when he came and buried his face in Derek’s neck to muffle his own whine.

 

At five in the morning he remembered all too well, and grinned down at Stiles as he opened him up so, so slowly while Stiles begged him to go faster, to fuck him, to make him come _Derek please_.

 

At nine in the morning, Lydia gave no indication that she had heard anything of the previous night as she accepted the plate of eggs Derek made before her first class, so he counted the night as the first of many successes. Stiles flipped him off when he said as much. “And you say I’m sex-crazed,” Stiles muttered, hip-checking him on his way to the shower.

 

“You are,” Derek said, and proved it to him by following him into the bathroom.

 

**

 

Those first few days, Derek felt like a teenager again, fucking quietly in the dark and letting loose only when Lydia was out during the day. Stiles cheekily reminded him that he himself had been a teenager until just a few months ago. “Feel old yet?” he teased. “Guy in his twenties, dating a teenager. What a pervert.”

 

“If it were your choice, we would’ve been fucking when you were sixteen,” Derek tossed back. “I’m pretty sure that’s objectification.”

 

“Hard not to when you look like that.”

 

It didn’t occur to him until later that Derek had never once compared himself to Kate at all during this thing with them. He never once stopped to wonder if it was wrong, what he was doing with Stiles, but even now he knew that he never had a reason to. He wasn’t her. He told Stiles that from the kitchen where he was washing dishes before Lydia got home. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him and agreed, and then came up behind Derek to wrap his arms around his waist. “Any particular reason you’re saying this?”

 

“I never thought to worry that I was.” Derek ran his nose along Stiles’ cheek. “I didn’t even think about it until today.” He found himself smiling down at his hands, covered in soapy water, unable to shake off the proud feeling in him. He hadn’t felt that for himself in…he couldn’t remember.

 

Lydia got in ten minutes later to find them like that, washing dishes together. “This is sickeningly domestic,” she commented. “You two better not have done it on the dining table, because I will infuse Derek’s coffee with wolfsbane.”

 

“It takes two to tango,” Stiles remarked.

 

“I’m sorry, I thought the threat against Derek’s life would be enough,” Lydia said sweetly. “I’d be happy to have you shine all of my shoes for me if it isn’t.” Stiles flicked soap at her, but neither of them complained when she chose an awful chick flick to watch instead of the sci-fi show that Stiles wanted.

 

**

 

December rolled around and Stiles quietly whispered one night that it was the first time he wouldn’t see Scott on Christmas. “Tell me I did the right thing,” he mumbled into Derek’s chest. He relaxed when Derek said nothing, but only moved to press his lips to Stiles’ temple.


End file.
